


Conscience

by KristinaDavidovna



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Budapest, Developing Relationship, Early Partnership, F/M, Mission Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-23
Updated: 2014-04-26
Packaged: 2018-01-20 12:13:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1510040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KristinaDavidovna/pseuds/KristinaDavidovna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After eighteen months of partnership, Clint and Natasha's mission in Budapest is supposed to be simple - infiltrate a party, collect some information and get out.</p>
<p>Things are never as easy as they should be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own characters that are in the Marvel Universe. And any resemblance my OCs have to real people are purely coincidence.
> 
> I must first give credit to the fanart that inspired this fic nearly a year ago. The fan posters by Amy (amyisalittledecoy on deviantart) can be found here:  
> [The Martyr](http://amyisalittledecoy.deviantart.com/art/The-Martyr-359167824)  
> [The Liberator](http://amyisalittledecoy.deviantart.com/art/The-Liberator-359163792)  
> [The Collaborator](http://amyisalittledecoy.deviantart.com/art/Collaborator-360394339)  
> [The Director](http://amyisalittledecoy.deviantart.com/art/Director-360394693)  
> [Budapest](http://amyisalittledecoy.deviantart.com/art/Budapest-353313613)
> 
> They've floated around on Tumblr (amblejambles) and you should definitely check them out and give her some credit because they're great and this fic definitely would not have happened if she hadn't decided to make them. Give her a follow while you're at it, she's awesome.
> 
> Second, I want to thank my beta/friend/fellow fangirl, [J_MariaM](http://archiveofourown.org/users/J_Maria/pseuds/J_Maria) for reading this for me and catching all of my funny little screw ups.
> 
> Third, I hope you enjoy :)

 

> _"The changes in our life must come from the impossibility to live otherwise than according to the demands of our conscience not from our mental resolution to try a new form of life"_  
>  \- Leo Tolstoy
> 
> Prologue

The mission seemed simple enough. They were to acquire data regarding shipments and business deals from the hard drive of Tibor Dorozsma. Dorozsma was known to impartially deal and smuggle weapons, materials and any other imaginable contraband to HYDRA, Al Qaeda, and independent militia groups worldwide. Natasha would pose as an Italian socialite and infiltrate an event thrown at Dorozsma’s estate in District two of Budapest while Clint ran point outside of the mansion.

Simple and easy.

 Clint fiddled with the corners of the manila folder in front of him while Coulson went over mission specifics from the head of the table.

“The estate has three floors and is bordered by forest on two sides. We believe that Dorozsma’s office is here, on the third floor in the north east corner.” He clicked through a projection of the floor plan, “There is an adjacent room that appears to be a vault as the only way in is through the office. We presume that the hard drive with the business data will be either in the office or in the vault.”

“Make sure to pack your lock picks.” Clint tipped his head toward Natasha with a grin.

Natasha just gave him a raised eyebrow in return, keeping silent and stiff in her chair. She’d been studying the files in front of her since receiving them, as usual. Since being cleared for fieldwork eighteen months ago, she’d been partnered only with Clint, which he decided was probably Fury’s way of saying ‘you break it you bought it.’ Clint certainly didn’t see it as punishment, Natasha was a hell of a partner and he’d been getting accustomed to her. He’d learned that her professionalism is strictly just that, and she wasn’t quite the ice queen she came off as, and that while she was serious by nature she also had a sharp wit and a sarcastic sense of humor. After some of their early missions he’d insisted on going for drinks as a way of building trust and their team, and slowly but surely Natasha had begun opening up.

“We can’t be sure how the vault operates until you’re in there, so make sure you’re prepared for everything.”

“So, really, you’re sending us in blind then?” His playful tone was laced with a hint of seriousness; the limited knowledge posed a legitimate obstacle and Clint hated going in blind.

“Some obvious reconnaissance on the ground will be needed before the night of the party.” No-nonsense as always, Coulson set his jaw before continuing, “Gather the Intel and get out without incident. Your quinjet leaves at 20:00. Any more comments, Agent Barton?”

“No, sir.” Came Clint’s sarcastic reply, punctuated with a half salute. Coulson rolled his eyes and dismissed them.

“Those briefings would be much shorter if you just let him talk.” Natasha’s expression remained neutral as she walked beside him down the hallway, but he caught the amusement in her eyes as she spoke.

“It wouldn’t be right if I didn’t give him a little grief,” Clint gave her a small smile and they approached the dorm wing. “Especially on the easy ones.”

“You’re assuming I’ll be able to crack the vault if I need to.” There wasn’t any doubt in her voice. They stopped walking and she turned toward him. “I’m more worried about my Italian.”

Clint let out a huff of laughter at this. “If that’s the case, then we’re screwed from the get go and that vault is the least of our problems.” He grinned widely and looked down at Natasha, watching the corner of her lips quirk upward ever so slightly before she turned down her hallway.

“Meet you on deck. Don’t forget your lock picks!” He called down the hall at her and she just threw her hand up in a wave. A few of the junior agents gave him incredulous looks. Laughing to himself, he walked toward his own bunk. Clint knew she scared the hell out of the younger agents. Her reputation alone was intimidating and when Natasha had gone through basic field training with many of them after her psych evaluations, she had kicked their asses consistently in every exercise given. It certainly didn’t earn her any friends among that group. Clint knew it didn’t bother her, hell, he wasn’t even sure if she would call him a friend.

He did know that his chest tightened whenever he coaxed that little smile out of her. _Well, fuck._

 


	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for any inaccuracies about the city. I researched and mapped things out with google to the best of my abilities.

Chapter 1

The nine hour quinjet ride went smoothly and they landed in a quiet field a twenty miles north of the city where two cars were to transport them to their hotel separately. Natasha stepped out of the back of the jet dressed in crisp, white wide-leg trousers and a striped boat neck blouse, looking very much the part of her Italian socialite cover.

“Should Catarina arrive at the hotel first?” Natasha asked.

“Catarina seems like the type to be fashionably late, and picky about her room. I’ll go check in first and text you with my room information.” Clint threw his suitcase into the back of the car before turning to her and wagging his eyebrows. “Unless you think Catarina met a ruggedly handsome American tourist on the flight?”

Natasha pushed her long curls behind her ear and shook her head before muttering in perfect Italian, “Stupido americano.”

“Stupid American with perfect aim” Clint sing-songed, checking his watch, “Alright, it’s just past almost noon now. After check in, I’m going to take a walking tour of the city and up through the hills in District Two in order to map out all of our routes. At midnight we’ll scope out Dorozsma’s villa for tomorrow night.”

“This isn’t my first time, Barton.” Natasha said, voice sharp. “We do not meet in public so we will not draw any attention. Today and tomorrow, I will make myself known to all of the wealthy businessmen in the area to guarantee my presence at the party tomorrow night will not be questioned. Text me your room number and meet location when you have them.”

“Catarina had better be more charming than that.” He said sarcastically with a wide grin.

“A presto, falco.” She smiled slyly and fished a pair of sunglasses out of her oversized bag.

“Ciao, bella.” He replied. Clint climbed into the back of the transport car with an easy feeling, Natasha would quickly gain the attention of the wealthy and fabulous people of Budapest while he knew he would be able to scout the area acting as a tourist without raising any suspicion.

 

* * *

 

The ride to the hotel went without consequence, the fields turned to hills and country road turned to narrow city streets. Clint crossed over the Danube with the sun still high in the sky. Classical, Renaissance and Gothic structures reflected off of the calm waters of the river. Budapest really was a beautiful city, he might actually want to tour and vacation in the city if he lived a normal life - the type of life where climbing in trees or holed up in empty buildings, and waiting for hours wasn’t a typical day at the office. He probably would hate working in an office.

Clint’s car pulled up to the front of the Novotel that had been booked for them and he let out a low whistle. “Nice place, eh?” The agent driving the car just gave him an unamused look through the rearview mirror as he parked the car before getting out to grab Clint’s luggage from the trunk and handed it to him. The hotel was situated almost directly on the Danube and across from the Parliament building. He gazed up at the modern styled hotel front, glass and mahogany colored paneling stacked eight stories tall, and hoped that they ended up below the fourth floor. It’s not that he didn’t appreciate heights, he did, however he would prefer not to repel over a hundred feet down to the street if they needed an emergency escape. He snorted a chuckle, _actually, that would be kind of awesome._

The lobby of the hotel was as modern and tasteful as the outside, and the young blonde clerk behind the desk welcomed him warmly and asked for his name and identification.

“James Quinn, room for one.” He handed over the passport with a smile. While the clerk was processing his information he mapped the layout of the lobby. It was a decent sized room, windows on all sides, there were two kids were watching a TV on one side of the lobby and a smattering of chairs and round tables throughout the rest of the room. If there were families in the hotel, that meant they definitely couldn’t risk bringing their work back to the hotel; children and espionage rarely turned out well in the same building. Not that Clint was concerned about being followed, he just liked having as much information as he could about his missions.

 “Okay, sir. You are in room 312. If you take this elevator up to the third floor, your room is straight down the hall and to the left.” The desk clerk said in heavily accented English, handing him his room card key and passport with a wide smile. “If you have any questions please call us at the desk by dialing zero on your telephone, we are available twenty four hours a day. Thank you and enjoy your stay, Mr. Quinn.”

Clint smiled at the man and thanked him before turning toward the elevator, suitcase in hand. The third floor seemed quiet, he couldn’t hear any children screaming or doors slamming as he made the walk to his room. His door was the last on the left before the hall cornered and continued to the left, an emergency staircase the last extension of the corridor. The room itself was one of the nicer he’d been sent to during his tenure with SHIELD. Crisp white sheets on the queen size bed, and a large window that faced a brick building on the opposite side of the street. Dropping his suitcase and duffle near the chair at the window, he threw himself onto the bed and almost moaned at the softness of the bed. Clint pulled his phone out of his pocket and sent a text to Natasha, “I’ve got room 312. Ask for a corner room facing the river near emergency stairs. Fury went all out on this one.”

After a moment of relaxation on what Clint believed to be one of the most comfortable beds he’d ever been in, he dragged himself back to his feet and fished around his duffle bag and pulled out a large Nikon camera and slipped the strap over his neck. Cellphone and keycard in pocket he headed out to play the American tourist bit, he knew that the district had plenty of hilly parks and many different eras of architectural design so taking a hike under this guise wouldn’t even be questioned. Before leaving the hotel, Clint stopped at the front desk and asked for a map and the location of a bike rental and then headed out. Glancing toward the river, he noted the bridge just to the north of the Novotel and then headed south toward the bike rental.

And hour later, Clint was whizzing through the Buda hills west of the river on the rented bike, stopping periodically to take photos of different beautiful structures and parks along his way toward the marked location of Dorozsma’s private villa on his phone’s GPS. He stopped to take a break near the edge of another heavily forested area and pulled out his phone, he knew had to be getting close, the estate was on a secluded road near the edge of the area that was considered to be close to the center of the city. Reading the map on the small screen he determined he was roughly five minutes from the address. Before he shoved the phone back into his pocket it buzzed with a text from Natasha, “Catarina is very safety conscious and quite afraid of heights. 313.” He shook his head with a small smile and put the phone back in his pocket and headed toward Dorozsma’s villa, which he came up to quicker than he thought.

The villa was quite large and very modern in styling, square and white with balconies jutting out on both sides and plenty of large windows lining all floors. At the dead end of the street, it was nearly entirely swallowed by trees in a thick, undisturbed forest and set about 100 yards back from the road, with a winding driveway up to the doors. Along the street was a fence of black wrought iron and brick, decorated with stone busts of lions. Clint studied the fence and gate alone the driveway; he couldn’t locate any cameras or security devices, or even evidence of guards and guard dogs. Either Dorozsma thought his business dealings were invisible or that he was untouchable. Either way, his ego played to their advantage. Clint snapped as many pictures as he could while remaining inconspicuous and then climbed back onto his bike. He started to head back down to the main street when he noticed a service road that cut diagonally through the trees at the end of the street. He rode up the narrow dirt road and tagged it on his GPS, sent to coordinates to Natasha and then began his ride back to the river. He biked more casually through the meandering residential streets on his way back, taking his time to appreciate the decades of history through the variety of houses that lined the roads.

When he returned the bike, the sun was starting to hang lower in the sky and the streets along the Danube were packed with tourists and locals alike heading into shops and cafes, enjoying the warm spring day. Playing his role, he took more photos on his walk back to the hotel and watched people as they strolled past him. With less than a block to go he spotted a familiar flash of red hair on the patio of a café. Natasha was laughing and chatting with a group of well dressed women surrounded by shopping bags. He watched as she picked up the delicate cup of coffee in front of her and she met his eyes for a second before returning to her lively conversation with what appeared to be a hearty laugh. Clint cursed himself, but, fuck, she was beautiful when she laughed.

 He made it back to his room and scrubbed a hand over his face. Clint threw his phone onto the nightstand beside the bed, stripped out of the jeans and polo he’d been wearing and collapsed into the bed. To be safe, he set an alarm on his phone to wake him at 10pm and fell into an easy sleep.

 

* * *

 

Natasha had her black town car parked outside of the Novotel along the Danube a half an hour after she received Clint’s text. Waiting for the driver to come around to open her door she smoothed the wrinkles on her shirt and checked her make up. A bellboy was already at the trunk of her car when she emerged from the back seat, and she walked past the boy without a glance and into the hotel. From behind her sunglasses she took in the lobby, noting the television and public use computers, deciding that this was a family hotel and a reputable establishment. Clint was right, SHIELD did well to choose this hotel to help maintain her cover. She reached the desk and removed her sunglasses, not fazed by the overly friendly greeting from the young man behind the desk.

“Catarina Magnani.” She laced her English with a delicate Italian accent.

“Miss, I need to see your identification, please.”

Natasha rolled her eyes and presented Catarina’s passport to the clerk. She realized that the bellboy had finally caught up to her, arms laden with her suitcases – most of which she’d packed with weapons.

“Alright, we have you in room 605.”

“No. That is unacceptable.” Natasha cut the poor man off, keeping her tone as haughty as her look required, “I cannot be that high, I refuse it. And I must be near an emergency exit. I have no idea what the building code standards are in this country and my safety is very important.”

The clerk began typing furiously on the computer, clearly upset by her demands. “Miss, unfortunately we have no river view rooms that fit your description on the second floor. Is a third floor room satisfactory?”

“If I must, yes, I can be on the third floor.”

The blonde man nervously swiped her key card to reprogram it and handed it to her along with her passport, “You are now in room 313, miss. If you take this elevator to the third floor, your room will be the last door on the right, straight down the hall. If you have any questions or need any assistance, please call down to the desk by dialing zero on your telephone. We are available twenty four hours a day to assist you. Thank you, and enjoy your stay Miss Magnani.”

Natasha walked away from the desk without a word and motioned for the bellboy to follow her. Once the bellboy left her room she took inventory of her luggage, ensuring that it was all in her possession. She sat down on the large bed and looked out the window at the Parliament building across the river; thoughts of her past life and the last time she was in Budapest, in that building, flooded her mind. She reached for her phone to send Clint a text to help bring her back to the present, she let him know that she was across the hall from his room.

Sighing, she got up to close the curtains and grabbed her purse and left the room, hanging a ‘do not disturb’ sign on the front to keep unwanted house keepers from rifling through her luggage. Natasha had the desk clerk call a cab for her and directed the driver to take her to an area rich in expensive boutiques and shops.

 

* * *

 

Making acquaintances with the wealthy women in the area proved to be as easy as she expected. When she threw a fit in one of the boutiques, she gained the attention of two women about her age who joined her in accosting the sales clerk for their lack of stock.  

“I’m Ilona.” The tall dark haired girl introduced herself before pointing toward her shorter counterpart who waved, “This is Nikolett.”

“It’s nice to meet both of you. My name is Catarina.” Natasha shifted her weight to lift her bag off of the counter and placed a hand on her hip. “Are all of the shops this… sorry around here? I’ve heard so much about the local designers, but all I’ve come across are incompetent saleswomen and collections I have already seen in Milan.”

“Actually, my father works as a supplier to a boutique not far from here. Ilona and I are headed there next.” Nikolett said sweetly. She gestured with her empty hands, “we have not had much luck today either. You are welcome to come with us.”

“I would like to, yes.”

On the walk to the boutique Natasha learned that Nikolett’s father was a wealthy owner of a distribution company that dealt with international retailers as well as local shops and that Ilona’s father was a well-known defense lawyer. Both of them lived in the hills of the second district, which was very useful for the mission, luck was on her side today. When they asked about her, she informed them that Catarina came from old money in Vienna and her father bought a hotel chain and increased their wealth even further, so she could take weekend trips whenever she pleased. 

The shop the two young brunettes lead her to did have a much larger and more eclectic selections of clothes, and the three women began perusing and trying outfits on, laughing and joking as they went.

“Ooh, that’s perfect.” Ilona approved of the long sleeved silver cocktail dress Natasha stepped out of the dressing area wearing. “Catarina, do you have any plans for tomorrow night?”

“I was planning to find the nightlife in this city.” Natasha admired herself in the mirror. The dress was had a low back, skimming below the bottom of her ribcage, and fell to below where her fingertips hit her thighs. It was quite nice, she had planned on wearing the black cocktail dress she’d brought, but this silver one was probably more appropriate for the type of party she thought it would turn out to be. _And there’s enough coverage for knives_.

“We know where the night life is. There is a large party that a friend of my dad is throwing – a younger friend, he is not old, and he is actually very sexy.” Nikolett giggled and Ilona interrupted her.

“She loves him. His name is Tibor,” Ilona drew in close to Natasha and dropped her voice to a whisper, “we all know he’s a drug dealer, and probably other things too, but he throws the best parties.”

“Well, if the party is as good as you say, I’ll probably have more fun there than at some club in town.”

“Great! What hotel are you staying in? I can have one of my father’s drivers pick you up.” Nikolett’s enthusiasm was almost over the top.

“But you must buy that dress and wear it. Everyone there will _love_ you in it.” Ilona chimed in quickly, gesturing to Natasha and the metallic dress.

Natasha smiled brightly and gave them her hotel location, watching as Nikolett typed it in her phone. The girls continued their shopping spree, Natasha bought the dress and a few other items. Eventually they all exited the boutique arms laden with bags and headed toward a café along the Danube, near her hotel, for a bite to eat and for what Nikolett declared as the best espresso in Budapest. Natasha gave into the frivolous and simple conversation with the girls at their table outside of the café, laughing and adding her own input accordingly. The part was easy to play, but she’d much rather be breaking into his house right now instead.

After about an hour, Natasha felt eyes on her and she brought her cup to her lips to take a deep drink of her latte to cover her eyes sweeping the street. She spotted him almost immediately, camera hanging around his neck and hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans. Natasha caught Clint’s gaze for the briefest of moments, conveying to him that she had an in to the party, and then returned to her conversation with Nikolett and Ilona with a hearty laugh.

By the time they left the café the sun had set. The girls got into a black town car that pulled up and they shouted that they’d see her tomorrow evening and then Natasha walked back to her hotel, bags in hand. A different desk clerk welcomed her as she walked through the glass doors of the Novotel’s lobby and she just breezed past them, projecting the arrogance of Catarina until she reached her hotel room door. She glanced behind her at Clint’s door and thought about knocking and planning out their midnight scout at Dorozsma’s villa together, but thought better of it and entered her own room. The clock read seven thirty, and she had roughly three hours before she had to head out. Natasha changed into her all black running gear and picked up the file for the mission. Photos of a suit clad Dorozsma shaking hands with other middle aged bearded men were paper clipped to the front of the documents in the plain clasped envelope. She spread out the contents on the bed and studied them until it was time to head out.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Under the guise of going for a late night jog, Natasha left the hotel and headed toward the GPS location Clint had marked for her. She didn’t know if he had left yet or not, but it didn’t matter. She liked to run in peace, chatter or music always threw her off and made her paranoid about the sounds they might drown out. The three and a half mile run turned out to be refreshing; the air was clean and the hills rolled all around her, dotted with houses and trees as far as she could see. She pulled her phone out of the band on her arm and made a right down the secluded street on which Dorozsma’s villa sits. The service road came into her view as she passed the large white villa that she assumed belonged to their arms dealer and she turned slightly and disappeared into the tree line at the dead end. Not long after she’d jogged up the small service road, Natasha heard the beat of feet and breaking of twigs behind her. She quietly backtracked into the trees with her hand on the gun at the small of her back.

“Easy, Nat.” Clint’s quiet voice cut through the darkness. “I can barely see you and I know you’re ready to kill me.”

Relaxed, she glided up to him on the road. “Did you have a nice day of sightseeing?”

“Yeah, everything here is beautiful.” His voice was velvet, “Did you have fun shopping?”

“Tons.” Natasha deadpanned.

Clint chortled quietly. “Come on grumpy, let’s see what we can see.”

They both silently made their way to the edge of the trees closest to Dorozsma’s villa, discovering that he had no fence at all surrounding his property. Natasha mumbled something under her breath, and Clint shot her a questioning look.

“He’s stupid. There are no surveillance cameras, no fence, no dogs, no flood lights. Nothing keeping anyone out.” She was practically hissing. “He must think every terrorist organization is full of his friends instead of murderers.”

Clint just nodded, this view only confirmed what he’d seen earlier. The balcony on this side of the house was off of the second floor, enclosed by a black railing. There was a stone patio around the back of the villa, it was large and well decorated with a dining set and a hot tub, and bordered by a fence of the same decoratively twisting wrought iron. The pair moved around the house to get a better view of the house from the back, where the study was located. The wall to the patio was nearly all glass, to be safe they climbed up in a sturdy tree which helped their vantage point. Clint pulled out a set of night vision binoculars to peer into the dark third floor.

“There’s a fancy desk directly in front of the window. The vault looks kind of small, it’s like a closet. I mean, it’s exactly where you’d expect a closet to be.” Clint turned to look at Natasha and cracked a smile. “He turned his closet into a high tech vault. He must have some very expensive suits. What an ass.”

Natasha shot her eyebrow up and the corner of her mouth curved into a smile. “Aside from being a closet, what else can you tell me about the vault, hot shot?”

“Hot shot?” His brow furrowed in confusion and amusement. “Well, there’s a keypad. It looks electronic, no fingerprint reader or facial recognition scanners, just they keypad and the handle. That’s all I can tell from it. So any safe-cracking you’ll need to do won’t be physical. This is actually a good tree. I can see the closet, the doorway and most of the first story. Modernistic open floor plans make my job so much easier. I think I’m just going to live in this tree until tomorrow night.”

“That won’t be at all suspicious. ‘Missing American Found Asleep in Wealthy Budapest Man’s Yard.’ It’ll be the best headline SHIELD will ever have to cover up.”

“Very funny. But I will be in this tree tomorrow night, so you know where I will be and what my sightlines are.” Clint continued to scan the interior of the villa through the binoculars, noting the locations of doorways and potential escape routes to Natasha who listened in silence.

“I think this is all we can see until I get inside tomorrow.” Natasha climbed down the tree with an easy grace and waited for Clint to reach the ground before continuing in a hushed voice, “I don’t think we’ll run into many surprises tomorrow anyway. I’ve got an electronic code breaker that should be able to hack into the keypad system, so getting into the vault should be simple.”

“The arrogant ass isn’t going to know what hit him when SHIELD intercepts his next deal. Come on, let’s run.” Clint turned to her with a grin.

“You’re full of jokes tonight.” Natasha took off in a sprint down the small service road before Clint could make another cheesy joke, he had become very good at wearing down her stoic façade in the last year and a half. She tried to brush him off at first and remain icy, but there was just something about Clint Barton that made it impossible to hate him or ignore him. On their most boring missions he’d begun cracking stupid jokes over the comms, challenging her to keep her cover. He never got her to break it, but it did add some entertainment and fun into the dull nights. She hated admitting it, but he was the closest thing to a friend she’d ever had. Personal relationships of any kind were strongly advised against during her youth in the Red Room; they made you vulnerable and weak, and would eventually get you killed. Natasha knew firsthand about the weakness personal connections made, and had heard and seen about the ultimate price that some of the other girls had paid for their relationships. The only acceptable relationships in the Red Room were partnerships on missions, but there were never any tears spilled if only one girl returned - they were all weapons and even the best weapons are replaceable.

But Clint was maybe a friend. She wasn’t sure, she’d never really had a friend. She’d only been close with one other person in her 23 years, and that had been a fast and passionate young love, not the easy and joking camaraderie she had with Clint. All she knew is that she enjoyed his company, that she trusted him, and that he could make her laugh, really laugh. While she did find him attractive, Natasha decided that being comfortable in his presence had nothing to do with that. Perhaps he was a friend.

Half an hour after she ran out of the woods, Natasha looked behind her and found Clint about twenty feet behind and stopped to let him catch up. “Do not make another stupid joke or I will leave you here.”  Her words sounded threatening, but she kept laughter in her eyes.

“Empty threat. I’m Coulson’s favorite.” Clint all but stuck his tongue out as he teased her.

The pair fell into a quiet jog as they made their way back to the river and their hotel. Once they’d gotten to the parking lot, Natasha stopped, “My room at 6 pm?”

“Oh, so Catarina _did_ meet a ruggedly handsome American.” His joke was meat with an eye roll.

“To finalize the plan for tomorrow night.”

“James Quinn would only be in Catarina’s room for one reason.”  He gave her an exaggerated seductive look.

“Shut up, Barton.” She laughed

“See you at six!” He jogged into the hotel, leaving her to wander around the small lot in and attempt to avoid looking at the Parliament building before entering the lobby ten minutes later.

 

* * *

 

Clint spent most of the next day memorizing the layout of Dorozsma’s villa and watching bad day time TV. He was too keyed up to do much else, he was itching to get up in that tree and get this mission over with. Logically, he knew he should sleep since he would not be getting any later that night, but it proved to not be an option; he really wanted to shoot something, or anticipate the possibility of shooting something – his bow hadn’t been touched since he packed it. By the time it was time for him to meet with Natasha he was bored out of his mind and had energy to burn. When the clock in his room read 6:00 Clint opened the door of his room, and scanned the hallway for other guests before crossing the hallway to find that Natasha had already opened her door for him.

He was greeted with a table full of food and his partner in a giant fluffy robe.

“Unless you’re planning to buy some trail mix and beef jerky, eat now.” She motioned to the table. “I know I’m not planning on eating anything tonight, and I ordered everything. Catarina is a spoiled brat, she does what she wants.”

Clint just laughed and picked up a burger and ate it, making appreciative noises throughout. Natasha just rolled her eyes and retreated to the bathroom.

“My car will arrive here at 8 pm. I’m going to need you in position by the time I get there, so I don’t walk in to any surprises.” She said from the bathroom, voice echoing.

“Not a problem, but I’m not going on foot this time.” Clint shoved French fries into his mouth and added, “I’m going to want to save my strength to not fall asleep in that god damn tree while I watch you get hit on by arms dealers and lawyers.”

“Isn’t that your basic job description?”

“Ha ha. Very funny.” He grabbed more fries, “These are amazing. Have you eaten anything?”

“Some pasta.” Natasha reemerged from the bathroom, make up now highlighting her features. She pulled her hair over one shoulder and reached across him, “Move over, that soup and bread is mine.”

“Carb-loading? You plan on running a marathon later?”

“You never know.” She swallowed a spoonful of the soup. “Besides, I’m going to be expected to appear to be drinking heavily. From what I’ve learned, ‘Dorozsma throws the best parties.’”

Clint laughed at her impression of what he assumed was one of the rich girls she’d met yesterday. She finished the soup and got up, grabbing a garment bag on her way to the bathroom, leaving the door open only a crack.

“What are you packing tonight?” Clint called. “Not that you couldn’t take anyone down without them, it’d be nice to know in the event you do need back up.”

“Blades up my sleeve, in my hair and on my thigh.” She was quiet for a moment before opening the door. “And I’ve got a small .380 in my bag. If Dorozsma’s as arrogant as we think, I won’t be searched.”

Clint gawked at her, but recovered as fast as he could, trying to cover up the fact that he was raking his eyes up and down her body. The silver dress clung to her torso like it was a second skin down through her hips where it fell away from her body and ended just below her fingertips, leaving her long and lethal legs exposed. The long sleeves did well to cover that hidden blade and the neck line brushed along the line of her clavicles, and dropped low in the back. He kept himself from groaning when she brushed passed him to grab another piece of bread and sat down next to him. She’d put her long hair up in some sort of loose twist.

“How do you hide one blade, let alone three in… that.” He made a sweeping motion toward her dress. She was going to kill him, in one way or another.

“It’s what I was taught.” Natasha just shrugged. Her words just hung in the air for a moment while she put on the black stiletto booties to complete her outfit. She didn’t bring up her past very often, but when she did, Clint never knew how to respond; he didn’t want her to think that he pitied her or that he was making her life inconsequential either.

“Those are shoes are completely impractical.” Clint broke their heavy silence.

“Well, I’m not planning to run a marathon.” She give him a small, teasing smile.

 _Fuck_. There was that thing in his chest again. He met her eyes and gave her a lopsided grin. Natasha pursed her lips slightly and turned her head to look at the food left on the table. They sat side by side in silence for a moment, each staring at some fixed point that was not in the direction of the other. Clint looked at the clock, it was after seven.

“I’m gonna grab my gear and head out.” He stood up and headed toward the door. He turned his head back toward her as he his hand reached the heavy handle, “If you trip in those ridiculous shoes, you can’t kill me when I laugh.”

Natasha heard him laugh before he slipped into the hallway and just shook her head, amused. She grabbed another piece of bread and double checked her gear; her SHIELD issue code breaker was heavy, but about the size of a pack of cigarettes - a tight fit in the clutch bag next to the small handgun, but it’s not like she was going to be powdering her nose all night. She chewed on the bread slowly, checking her appearance in the mirror before reaching into the luggage on the bed. Fishing through suitcase she pulled out the thick black bangle and ear piece she’d been looking for. SHIELD R and A developed a garrote that hooked into itself nicely so it could be worn inconspicuously. _Better safe than sorry._

As she was zipping her luggage back up the phone rang. Leaning over the bed she picked it up. The desk clerk informed her that a car had come to pick her up.

“Yes, I will be right down.” Natasha hung up the phone and put her ear piece in. Grabbing her clutch, she stood up and left the room, turning Catarina back on as she let the door close behind her.

 

* * *

 

Natasha’s town car pulled up the long driveway and into a line of cars leading up to Dorozsma’s villa, an array of limos and sports cars lining the path to the door. She didn’t wait for the driver to open her door when they reached the entrance, closing the car door behind her without a word to the driver. She sashayed her way through the open front doors, scanning the faces around her as she made her way to the bar. Young women in slinky dresses were dancing and laughing with a men in sport coats, most of them as young as the women that surrounded her. She did not spot Catarina’s friends or Dorozsma among the glamorous bodies in the room. Natasha shouted her drink order over the music and turned to lean against the bar and survey the room.

 _“Every guy in that room is staring at your ass.”_ Clint’s voice cracked in her ear, followed by a laugh

Natasha brought her drink to her lips to cover her response. “Got a visual on Dorozsma?”

_“He’s upstairs, primping. Fifty bucks says he makes a huge entrance and takes the mic from that douchey DJ.”_

“I’ll take that bet. He’ll sneak down and start greeting everyone individually.”

“ _Get ready to owe me. I see your gaggle of girls have arrived. Their sexy walk might be better than yours.”_

“Shut it, Hawkeye.”

She heard him laugh as she moved toward Ilona and Nikolett. Nikolett beamed at her and outstretched her arms, pulling Natasha in for a hug.

“I am so glad you came!” Her words were slurred, but the shorter woman just smiled as she pulled back.

“We had a few drinks on the way here.” Ilona explained before exchanging air kisses with her. “Have you been here long?”

“No. I’ve only arrived a few moments ago. Is Dorozsma here? I feel as though I should thank the host for such a large party. Before I drink too much and forget.” She punctuated her sentence with a smile and a sip of her drink while the girls giggled.

“Tibor likes to be fashionably late to his parties. He likes to join when the party is in full swing.” Nikolett animatedly gestured around her, clumsily hitting a man behind her. She squeaked an apology before bursting into laughter. Recovering, she said, “Tibor better hurry or I will not remember to thank him.”

“Nikolett, you would never forget to thank him.” Ilona gave her friend a look and the two began to laugh again.

 _“Ohhhh Tibor, you’re so dreamy. Tibor, Tibor, where are you?”_ Clint’s falsetto came through her earpiece and Natasha let herself laugh, playing it off that the duo’s laughter was infectious, and glanced up through the window at Clint’s position in the tree.

“I think I need another drink to get to where the two of you are.” Natasha grinned at the two girls.

“YES!” They shouted in unison, before breaking into a fit of giggles again. Natasha stared at them quizzically and joined their outburst, clutching at Ilona’s shoulders as the three of them doubled over in laughter

_“I have no idea how you’re going to handle these two all night.”_

Straightening up, Natasha took a deep drink of her cocktail with a smile and it was Clint’s turn to laugh in her ear. The girls moved themselves over to the bar and then claimed a couch situated near the table where the DJ had set up his equipment. Laughing and dancing amongst themselves, random men wandered over to them, offering drinks, compliments and dances. Natasha flirted with her would be suitors and was having an incredibly boring conversation with some business lawyer when a man’s voice overcame the music that had been playing. Tibor Dorozsma had finally made his arrival downstairs. Stepping up onto a coffee table, microphone in hand, he welcomed his guests.

“Hello everybody! Are you having fun? I hope you are enjoying yourselves!” His voice was jolly and a smile spread across his face. “Tonight I celebrate my successful business deal with all of you! Thank you for coming, everything is on me! Champagne for everybody!”

His speech was followed by a round of cheers and applause as he stepped down and tossed the microphone back to the DJ.

_“You owe me fifty dollars. American dollars, Widow.”_

“Let’s go say hi!” Nikolett nearly threw herself across the room toward Dorozsma while Ilona and Natasha laughed in her wake and followed. On their way, Natasha bumped into a tall thin blonde woman who gave her a bemused look, even as Natasha apologized.

“I guess that not everyone is enjoying themselves.” Ilona remarked after the icy stare they’d received.

“I guess not.” Natasha replied, throwing a glance over her shoulder with a frown.

By the time they caught up with Nikolett she was already chatting up Dorozsma, who laughed heartily at her jokes. He paused to appreciate the newcomers to his group.

“My darling, Nikolett, you must introduce me to this lovely woman.” He directed his gaze to Natasha.

“You know Ilona. And this is Catarina. She is visiting the city from Milan.” She gestured to the girls as she spoke.

"Vienna, actually." 

Natasha offered her hand, but Dorozsma pulled her in for a hug instead.“You are quite beautiful, my dear. And that dress! Stunning. You did not tell me you were bringing such a ravishing guest, Nikolett.”

The girl just stammered in response, pouting slightly that the attention had shifted away from her.

“Nikolett swears your parties are the best on the continent.”

“Does she! Then I must not disappoint. Tell me, my dear, are you having a good night?”

“I am. I have wonderful company.” Natasha paused and leaned in closer to Dorozsma, casting her eyes downward. “But, I must be blunt, where is your toilet?”

“Of course! There is one down the corridor behind me, at the end on the left. If that one is occupied, there is another upstairs, immediately after the front stairs.” He kept his voice low

Giving her best pitiful smile she met his eyes, “Thank you so much.” Natasha made her way down the hall first, disappearing from sight before making her way to the staircase and up to the third floor.

“Hawkeye, I need eyes on my tail once I get in that room.” Her voice was deadly serious.

_“I wasn’t planning on taking a nap, here.”_

“That blonde. I think I’ve been made. I think the KGB is here.” Natasha wasn’t panicked, just aggravated that this mission gained a bump in the road. “I’m going to get in and out as fast as I can. Watch the stairs.”

_“You’re not sure? I’m watching the stairs, but you’re gonna have to fill me in on how, for once, you’re not sure.”_

“I haven’t seen her since we were young.” She responded, short and clipped. Clint did not reply. Natasha made her way to the vault quickly and pulled out the code breaker and a set of small tools from her clutch. Crouching in front of the panel, she unscrewed the face plate and exposed a mess of wires, to which she attached the code breaker. The panel beeped for entry in under a minute. She pushed the door open to reveal a simple desk with a computer directly across from the door, a library of gun and technology magazines, and refrigerators and tables with scales she assumed were related to his side dealings with drugs.

“I’m in. ETA 5 minutes.” She packed her tools back into the bag and removed a thumb drive and moved for the computer. Hacking into his account was as easy as she anticipated, but the first file she opened stopped her immediately. She swore under her breath. “Dorozsma’s not making an arms deal tomorrow. At least not traditionally.”

_“What did you find, Widow?”_

“Girls. He’s making a sale of girls to the Red Room. That’s the KGB program that started me.” Natasha swallowed hard. “Uploading Dorozsma’s hard dive to SHIELD’s network file share database.”

_“The blonde is headed up the stairs. Speed it up.”_

“Now I know why she’s here. Thirty seconds.”

_“She’s got goons. And Dorozsma. You’ve got less than a minute. Get out of there.”_

The screen blinked that the upload was complete, and she removed the drive. She ran back into the study, closing the vault behind her and stopped. “Don’t shoot them when they get here.”

_“Nat, what are you doing?”_

“Trust me, Hawkeye.”

_“Get out of there, Widow.”_

“Clint, you’re going to have to trust me.” She looked out the window at his position. She knew using his name, his real name would convince him. “Follow my lead.” Natasha ripped her earpiece out and tossed it under Dorozsma’s desk as she heard footsteps at the door.

“Черная вдова.” The blonde spat at Natasha like an insult. “You are getting sloppy, little Natalia.”


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

“I knew you were too beautiful to be here without purpose, my dear.” Dorozsma smiled again at her, but his joy did not reach his eyes. Turning toward his companion he said, “The most beautiful women are always dangerous.”

“You were not always this beautiful Yelena.” Natasha smirked. “I remember when you were nothing but a waif. I certainly don’t recall your bra size being that large.”

Yelena said nothing as she moved toward Natasha, murder in her eyes. She threw a punch aimed squarely for her left cheek, which Natasha deftly avoided and swept Yelena’s legs from under her. Getting back to her feet, Yelena unsheathed a blade from her thigh and lunged at Natasha, making a swipe at her torso. She blocked the attack, taking a slice across her arm before knocking the weapon from Yelena’s hand. The show of blood drew a smile from Yelena, who abruptly kicked Natasha in the side knocking her into Dorozsma’s desk. She drew one of the blades from her sleeve and came back at Yelena, exchanging blocks and blows until her weapon made contact with Yelena’s shoulder.

Without wincing, Yelena removed the blade lodged in her shoulder and tossed it aside. Natasha telegraphed her next move, letting her blonde counterpart know that she was going to remove the second blade from her sleeve and allowed herself to be defenseless for the briefest of seconds. Yelena took the opportunity and landed a punch to Natasha’s cheek before delivering a second roundhouse to her midsection, knocking Natasha to the ground. Yelena pounced on Natasha before she could move, pinning her arms with her legs and quickly removing the blade from her hand and holding it to her throat.

“Do not kill her, Yelena.” Dorozsma interrupted and pulled out a phone.

Yelena did not move from Natasha, “You were always the favorite, Natalia. But look at you now.” She spat, “You didn’t deserve the code name or the attention. You still do not. I should have earned that moniker first. Perhaps after tonight, I will be the only one.”

Natasha remained silent as Yelena moved off of her, only to be dragged to her feet by two towering men that zip tied her wrists behind her back.

“Ivan Petrovich! My friend! You will never believe what I have for you. No, no, better than that. I have your lost Widow!” Dorozsma spoke into his phone. “Tonight is wonderful. So glad we could adjust our arrangements on such short notice!”

Dorozsma called for a car and led their brigade down to the front, pausing for a moment to look wistfully back at his party and guests before climbing into the back of a limousine. Yelena slid in next to Dorozsma and the burly guards threw Natasha into the seat across from them and got in on opposite sides of her, trapping her in the middle.

Once the doors slammed the car took off down the driveway.

Clint loosed an arrow that once it connected with the bumper fell to pieces, leaving just the tracking device imbedded in the tip on the car.

“Coulson. We need emergency extraction.”

_“How badly did you screw up, Barton?”_

“We got faulty information. The next sale Dorozsma is making is a group of girls to the Red Room. Natasha’s been made by one of her former peers and she’s been added to that shipment.” Clint was nearly barking at his handler. “Now, are you going to pull us out or not?”

 _“ETA one hour.”_ Coulson said, calm as ever, after a pause.

“Just follow the GPS tracker. We’ll be there one way or another.” Clint wished he was speaking on a phone so he could slam it. This was an entirely different kind of going in blind. Either Dorozsma was spectacular at keeping his deals a secret or someone skimmed over the research before the mission was handed down. This whole mission was bullshit. He climbed down the tree and made his way to the front of the line of parked cars, breaking the front window of the sleek corvette at the head and let himself in, hotwiring it in no time. Clint pulled out his phone and pulled up the tracker he’d attached to Dorozsma’s limo and followed the blinking dot on the screen.

 

* * *

 

This was the first time that Natasha wished Clint was talking in her ear. She was fairly certain that he would have known she threw the fight, she’d sparred with him enough that he’d be able to tell that she was holding back. She was sure that he would be following her to wherever it is that Dorozsma was meeting Ivan. But still, she was concerned that he would leave her - SHIELD had the information, the mission perimeters had technically been met and she was going off script. This mission had been about intelligence gathering, she was not supposed to intercept the deal, but that was before she knew the KBG was still using the Red Room. Natasha just loved the idea of ruining their plans; and those little girls deserved better than the life they were about to be given.

The guards next to her unzipped her stuffed clutch bag, handing the thumb drive and gun over to Dorozsma.

“So, my darling little Natasha, who were you trying to give this information to.” He wagged the drive in his hand as he spoke in an easy conversational tone.

“No one.” She raised her chin, “I got wind you were dealing with the Red Room, that the KGB, or FSB these days, was resurrecting the program. And it was going to make my day to screw up their idea. I just needed the information about when and where. Everything else I would have just sold to the highest bidder.”

“Spying for the sake of spying?” Dorozsma crushed the drive with his heel.

“I don’t believe it.” Yelena interrupted. “She has been off of our radar for only just over a year. Before that they were tracking her through Europe, following her kills. FSB lost her trail, no one can hide that well.”

“Maybe that’s why I got all of that undeserved attention. I’m still the best.”

Yelena responded with another crack across Natasha’s jaw.

“Well, no matter.” Dorozsma interjected, “The drive is no more and I have you. You, dear, are a very large payoff for me. Ivan spoke highly of you and the Widow Program the Red Room facilitates. He sounds very pleased with the prospect of having one of their successes returned to him and reprogrammed.”

“I am sure you will make a wonderful role model for these newest recruits. And a lesson to them that this is the best place for them once they remind you about the greatness and superiority of our organization.” Yelena said, curtly.

“There is nothing great about an agency that takes young girls and trains them to be killers. There is nothing superior about making deals with HYDRA.” Natasha shook her head.

“FSB, Red Room, we get things done. The ends justify the means when it means our country and people thrive. You have little right to act morally righteous.” Yelena leaned in toward Natasha, hand abruptly reaching beneath her dress to remove the knife that was hidden there. “You were the most unscrupulous of us all, Natalia. Do not forget where you come from, despite the conscience you’ve suddenly grown or alliances you have formed.”

“Believe me, I can’t.” Natasha gritted out.

“Good. You are a liar and a killer, Natalia. And we are made the same, you and I.” Yelena turned to Dorozsma. “She is going to interrupt this deal.”

“Nonsense, darling.” Dorozsma just smiled. “We’ve changed the original location and we’ve confiscated her weapons. You may think she’s working with some rival agency, but unless there is an entire strike team, which we would see on our tail, backing her up I am not worried. I have more men on their way and I am sure Ivan Petrovich has armed guards as well. And, of course, there are children, no one will want to risk those lives for an asset. Even if she may be the best – a statement with which you do not agree.”

Yelena looked unconvinced, “If you are wrong, you are a dead man, Dorozsma.”

“You are not the first person to make that threat to me, darling Yelena.” Dorozsma calmly plucked the knife from the blonde’s hands admiring it. He bared his teeth in a wide smile, “No one has followed through with it this far.”

The rest of the ride passed in relative silence, with Yelena’s eyes never leaving Natasha. She knew that Yelena was in pain from the stab wound on her shoulder, but Natasha had tried to miss all of her major veins. She wanted to slow her down, not have her bleed out. Dorozsma intermittently took phone calls, speaking Hungarian to whoever was on the other end. By the conversation, Natasha presumed it was regarding the new drop point of his shipment. He referred to the girls as if they were freight, like they were already the weapons they were intended to become. She knew the hypocrisy of the outrage she felt about people being treated as property, she knew that she was considered an asset, but this was her own choice.

The car came to a stop about a half an hour after they left, if Natasha’s internal clock was still accurate. A new goon opened the door to the limo from the outside, Dorozsma and Yelena exited while Natasha was shoved through the door by the guard behind her and then pulled to her feet by another. They were parked in the middle of some abandoned industrial complex, surrounded by shipping containers and stone warehouses. Parked next to their limo was a black work van, unmarked and without windows in the back. Dorozsma walked around to the front of the limo and leaned casually against the hood of the car, checking his watch. It wasn’t long before two sets of headlights made their way toward them. When it stopped Dorozsma stood up straight, smoothing his jacket.

Behind his entourage Ivan stepped out of an SUV, immediately making eye contact with Natasha. Tall and broad, with kind eyes that Natasha knew to be a lie and the same thick greying mustache, he strolled toward Dorozsma and Yelena.

“You do not lie, Tibor.” He grinned widely, “You look mostly well, Natashenka, I have missed you.”

“You missed me a lot, Ivan.” She smiled sweetly at him, “In fact, many of your men missed me multiple times all over Europe, didn’t they?”

His smile didn’t drop, but the warmth left his eyes. “And the rest of my shipment?”

“It’s in the van, of course.” Dorozsma motioned lazily toward the vehicle to his left.

“Show me.”

“Ah.” Dorozsma crossed his arms, “I’d like to see the payment before I open that door.”

Ivan motioned for one of his guards to retrieve a duffle bag from their car. The guard roughly opened it and showed the contents to Dorozsma, who smiled and nodded. On cue, Natasha heard the sound of a metal door opening and another to guards brought ten young girls, all appearing younger than 9, around to the front of the cars. Most of them covered their eyes in the sudden brightness of the headlights.

“I suspect you had no trouble with acquiring them?”

“No. They won’t be missed. The orphanages in between here and Athens are always too full.” Dorozsma’s smile faltered for a moment. “But if you ever need a second shipment, you let me know. I-“

Dorozsma stopped midsentence as the guard to his left fell to the ground with a thud and an arrow sticking from his shoulder. The moment of confusion was all Natasha needed to break loose of the guards who were holding her arms. Turning around, she head-butted one and kneed him swiftly in the gut and then the head once he was doubled over. The other grabbed her from behind again, but she threw her head back, connecting with his nose while the concealed blade pressed into her skull, and ran them backward into the side of the van. She stomped down on his instep to throw him off balance before using his uneven weight to knock him to the ground. Kicking him for good measure to keep him down.

Gunfire began cracking around her and the kidnapped girls froze in the headlights. One of Ivan’s guards made a move toward them and was picked off with another arrow.

“Go! That way!” Natasha shouted and nodded toward the direction behind the van. When they hesitated she ran through her regional languages until a few of them understood her Serbian and took off running, the rest of them followed instinctively.

With the girls out of the way Natasha took in the scene around her. Four guards were on the ground and fourteen were scrambling to try to find their assailant. Ivan was shouting at Dorozsma in the middle of it and Yelena was crossing the pavement to where Natasha still stood, arms tied behind her.  She shook her head up and down rapidly until her last weapon fell out of her hair and into her hands. Pulling it out of its sheath she cut through the plastic zip tie in time to dodge Yelena’s kick at her head. Yelena launched backward to avoid the swipe Natasha made with her knife. Standing up again, Natasha threw the knife directly at Yelena’s throat. As expected, Yelena ducked the blade and Natasha landed a kick to her midsection, knocking her back onto the pavement. Yelena flipped herself back up, and took a fighting stance in front of Natasha.

“You are out-numbered. This is not going to end in your favor.”

“Doesn’t matter.” Natasha shrugged “It wasn’t ever. It won’t for you either.”

The pair fought blow for blow, anticipating and blocking the other’s moves. Hopping over attempts to sweep legs out and ducking under haymakers until Ivan began to shout from behind their position, “Маленькая паука!”

 Unceremoniously, Yelena shoved Natasha into the side of the car and took off running toward the SUV where Petrovitch was now leaning with an arrow jutting out of his arm. The gunfire was now focused on the ground, toward her left behind the van. Natasha rolled to the guards she’d taken down and removed a handgun from each of them, taking cover behind the van, next to Clint.

“You had to pick this side to take position on?” Natasha shouted at him.

“I secured the kids first, they’re fine. Scared as hell, but I made sure there weren’t any more tails from this direction. It’s a dead end.” Clint nocked another arrow and loosed it around the side of the van, catching another guard in the leg, forcing him to drop his weapon.

“How many left?” Natasha checked the clip in her newly acquired guns. Both were full.

“Ten guards. Stalin-Mustache guy isn’t totally down, that crazy blonde and Dorozsma.”

“Ivan and Yelena will probably leave as soon as they have cover fire.”

“What’s the plan?” Clint looked at Natasha with the faintest hint of a smile. “Our extraction is still fifteen minutes out.”

“Cover me.” She flashed a wicked smile before disappearing around the side of the van, guns drawn.

Clint pressed a button on his bow and nocked another arrow, this one with an explosive arrowhead and let it fly. It connected with the van the majority of the guards took cover behind. The explosion threw most of them to the concrete, the remaining four men dove for cover behind the SUV Petrovitch arrived in. Natasha managed to take two of them out during the scramble.

“How’d you manage to convince Coulson to give us an extraction team?” Natasha called over to Clint, dodging the aimless shots the shaken guards were taking at her and rolling back to the van.

“I told him you fucked up and got yourself captured.” Clint released an arrow, squarely hitting an uncovered guard in the shoulder and grinned at her.

“You say that like I didn’t have a plan.” She replied, feigning offense. Squealing tires took the place of gunfire and Clint and Natasha peered around the van to see Petrovitch’s SUV peeling away from the firefight. Standing up, Natasha took aim and shot at the front tires. Before she could move, Dorozsma popped up from beside the limo next to them and fired two shots, both connecting with Natasha’s stomach. Clint watched as she crumpled in a heap of red and silver next to him and his stomach tied itself into knots. Before Dorozsma could fire again, Clint released an arrow that landed in his neck, effectively dropping him. The last guard appeared up next to where he had just been and he took him out just a quickly, loosing the arrow before he could draw his gun. After a beat he threw his bow around his torso and bent down to scoop Natasha into his arms and took off down the same path he’d directed the girls down. He stopped in front of the warehouse he hid them in and gently laid Natasha on her back.  

“Natasha! Nat, stay awake okay?” He tried, without much luck, to keep the panic from rising into his voice. Keeping his hands steady, he pressed down on the bullet wounds, earning him a groan. His brow furrowed with concern as her blood quickly coated his hands.

“This isn’t the first time I’ve been shot.” She labored out between ragged breaths, trying to give him a smile, but it dissolved into a coughing fit that sprayed blood onto her dress. “… shit.”

“Don’t talk anymore. I hear the quinjet incoming. Just hang on.” Clint stood up and brought his bow back up. Pressing the red button on his bow he selected a flare tip and nocked the arrow before launching it straight up. He watched it burn before letting another one go to be sure and then went back to applying pressure to Natasha’s ribs. Her breath was more labored, he could tell that one of the bullets had punctured her lung. “Just stay awake, Tasha. The quinjet is almost here. Listen. Can you hear it?”

She looked up at him, meeting his eyes and nodded before covering his hands with hers, pushing down with whatever strength she could muster. The quinjet touched down in the space in front of them and Coulson followed by a strike team jogged to their position.

“We need a medic!” Coulson instructed the team behind him, who ran back to the jet for supplies. “What happened?”

“She took two. We rescued the kids, they’re inside.” Clint said, worry obvious in his voice, and nodded toward the doorway next to him. “But she took two and the Russians got away.”

“And Dorozsma?”

“Dead.” Clint did not hide his bitterness. “I had to take him out before he could do more damage.”

The team returned with medical supplies and a gurney, rushing passed Coulson and shouting at Clint to move. Reluctantly he moved away and stood next to Coulson as they loaded her onto the gurney, applying mounds of gauze to her side and an oxygen mask over her nose and mouth. Another agent emerged from the building with the little girls in tow and they followed onto the plane, in front of Natasha’s prone form.

As the quinjet took off the medic shouted amongst themselves, trying to stifle the bleeding and stabilize her before they could get her to a hospital. Clint sat as close as they would let him, staring at the tubes hooked up to her arms and the color paling from her cheeks.

“Barton!” Coulson shouted and Clint’s head snapped at his handler. “What. Happened?”

“I don’t know, Coulson.” He pursed his lips for a moment and then set his jaw “You tell me.”


	5. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter. Epilogue to follow.

Chapter 4

The first thing Natasha became aware of was the steady beeping of the monitor near her head. She slowly opened her eyes and looked around the stark white hospital room. To her left, in the chair in the corner was Clint Barton, half asleep. She tried to shift to see him better without craning her neck but a sharp pain in her ribs stopped her immediately and she let out a rough yelp.

“Hey.” His voice was still thick with sleep. “You shouldn’t move.”

“I’m getting that.” She relaxed back into the stiff hospital bed, exhaling again. “How long was I out?”

“Five days.” He said. She gave him a quizzical look, brows furrowed. “He punctured your lung and nicked something or other and perforated your stomach. You almost bled out before they got you to an actual hospital. We’re back in New York.”

“Have you been here the whole time?” Her brows still knit in confusion.

“You owe me fifty bucks.” His face softened, smiling at her.

Natasha tried to laugh, but her ribs put that to an end. Sighing she stared up at the ceiling, “Ivan and Yelena?”

“We lost track of them.” He could see the frustration on her features. “But Dorozsma is dead and we have all of his files. He was incredibly well organized and documented all of his transactions and contacts. This is going to let SHIELD intercept more than just the deals he was making, but deals of his associates. We’ll track them down again.”

“They’re in Moscow.” She just shook her head. “I just can’t get to them without alerting the entire Russian military.”

Clint stared at the tiles at his feet. She was probably right. If Petrovitch was willing to risk new additions to the Widow program to bring Natasha back under control of the FSB, they would use all of their resources to bring her back in if she entered the country.

“Thanks for trusting me.” Her voice was small.

“You didn’t use my code name. I knew you were serious.” He looked up to find her studying his face. “And that was the first time you ever used my first name. You should do that more often.”

“If I used it all of the time, how would you know when you need to actually listen to me?”

He just laughed and she tried to drift back to sleep.

 

* * *

 

A week later they were back on the helicarrier, standing outside of Fury’s office waiting for the lecture that was going to accompany their debriefing. The door opened silently and they filed into the room, standing in front of the table in the middle of the room. Fury stood with his back to them and Coulson sat at the long table, their reports and the mission file spread out in front of him.

“What in the hell gave you two the idea to go beyond the perimeters of the mission and kill a potential asset?” He didn’t turn around.

“Sir, Romanoff discovered that the target had ties to not just weapons but in human trafficking. We thought it was best –“

“You don’t get to think it was best, Agent Barton.” Fury turned around and leaned on the table. “This is the second time you’ve made a different call from what we’ve laid out for you. You are skating on thin ice, Agent.”

“Sir,” Natasha spoke up, “It was my idea to intercept and disrupt the shipment. I wanted to have a part in taking down the resurrection of the Red Room and Widow Program. Its existence is more of a threat than losing a potential contact. Agent Barton was just following my lead.”

Fury leveled her with his gaze. “You have been with this agency for less than two years, what exactly qualifies you to make those types of decisions?”

“I was the top of your kill list for nearly a year and that program is how I got there. And now, they have the technology and skills to mold even more children just like they did me.” Her response was clipped and she paused before adding, “Sir.”

“Hmph.” Fury looked at the two of them. “You two are lucky that Dorozsma’s hard drive was uploaded successfully or we would not be having this conversation. If you two pull a stunt like that again I will not authorize your seamless extraction and make you clean up the mess yourselves instead of wasting man hours to scrub two hotel rooms and then drop you into whatever desolate wasteland is nearest, do you understand me?”

“Yes, Sir.” They nodded in unison.

“Good. Now get the hell out of my office, I’ve got bigger problems than the two of you with this so-called ‘Iron Man’ asshole.”

After the door closed behind Clint and Natasha Coulson finally spoke, “Was that really necessary, Sir?”

“Coulson, if I really wanted to threaten them, it wouldn’t have been with cleaning up their own mess.”

“Yes Sir.” He gathered up all of his papers. “I just mean that they carried out what you had hoped they’d do, they prevented those kids from getting moved to the Red Room facility and took out an arms dealer. And Romanoff didn’t defect from us back to the FSB.”

“I don’t see your point, Agent.” The annoyance in Fury’s voice was evident.

“If you trusted Romanoff to remain with our agency - that they would carry out the full mission specs - why did we send them in blind? Why not just read them in?” Coulson stood, file in hand. “You already took the risk in bringing her on.”

“I took one risk. I needed to make sure it would pay off.” Fury turned toward Coulson and crossed his arms. “I had to test her allegiance and her conscience. I knew that Barton would follow her lead, he showed that he trusted her before he even had a reason to. But Romanoff, she is one of the best in this business. And now, I can say for certain that she is playing for the good team. Barton made the right call. Did I ever tell you about my granddad, Coulson?”

“Yes, Sir.” Phil sighed, “He liked people, but he didn’t trust them very much.”

“I like Romanoff. I liked what she was capable of even after we sent out that kill order. And I liked the idea of bringing her in when Barton walked into our base with her. I just couldn’t trust her and I couldn’t trust that she knew right from wrong on her own. Until now.” He turned back to the window. “I’m going to need you on the ground at Stark Industries, Phil. Get in touch with Stark about his Iron Man suit.”

Coulson nodded and left the office.

 

* * *

 

Clint found Natasha in front of a punching bag after their debriefing, wincing every time she connected with it.

“You should stop that.” He said, voice laden with concern.

“I needed to blow off steam.” She took a final punch and turned to him, out of breath.

“Meet me at the Pub in an hour?”

“Deal.”

By the time Clint walked into the pub, Natasha was already seated at a back corner booth, facing the entrances like always. He ordered a beer from the bar and sat down beside her. She was nursing two fingers of scotch on the rocks, staring into it.

“They knew before they sent us in.” She didn’t look up from her drink.

“How do you know?” He took a swig, watching her face as she spoke.

“They needed to test me.” She took a deep drink from her glass. “I guess I passed.”

They sat in silence for a while, Natasha finished her drink and ordered a second. “My parents died when our apartment caught fire in Stalingrad, Volgograd now, I guess. I was four.”

Clint watched as she took a sip of her scotch, not daring to interrupt her.

“I was taken to an Orphanage, I don’t know where. But it wasn’t too long after when Ivan came in and picked me from the crowd of little girls. I don’t know why, but he chose me. The other girls were jealous. I thought I was lucky, that this well dressed man with his kind eyes and calm voice had chosen me to be his daughter.” She laughed at the irony. “Well, I ended up in this place, they called it the Red Room. It was a huge training facility for the KGB and I was put into the Widow Program. We know how that one turned out. I’m their most successful product. Or I was. I guess Yelena holds their official title now. Ivan called her ‘little spider’ back there. It doesn’t matter.” She shook her head, drinking again and paused.

“Five years ago I was sent on an assassination mission in Budapest. I took out a member of their parliament on the stairs. The KGB - FSB, whatever, they’re the same even with a different name- thought he was going to be a threat to our stability and attempted ties with the Hungarian government. It was a mess. I haven’t been back since.” She looked up at Clint and met his eyes momentarily. “I left because I wanted to make my own choices. I was burned out when you were sent to kill me. I joined up because I thought maybe I could make a difference for the good, rather than for the KGB or for the highest bidder.”

“Natasha, you almost died because you wanted to save a group of girls from having to go through what you did.” Clint studied her face, she just looked down at the table.  

“I’ve got a lot of red in my ledger, that member of Parliament in on those steps is just a small spot.” She pursed her lips and toyed with the glass in her hand.

“You don’t have to be a martyr to do some good.”

“Maybe not. Maybe making those calls back there is a step to wipe some of it out.” She took a drink and looked back up at him, meeting his gaze. “Maybe I’ll balance it all out one day. Maybe I’ll be a good person somewhere down the line.”

“Nat,” He started, “You are a good person.”

“No I’m not, but thank you for saying that.”

“Well, I’m not convinced you’re a terrible person. I wouldn’t have let you live if I thought you were.” He took a swig of his beer and smiled at her, “Unless you welch on that fifty dollars you owe me. That will definitely sway my opinion.”

Natasha laughed. It was an actual laugh that she didn't try to suppress and it almost took him off guard. Smiling she pulled out her wallet and removed a bill. “Don’t spend it all in one place, Barton.”

He took the bill from her and held it up to the light and she laughed again. Putting it in his own wallet he looked back at her, “Like I said, you’re not a bad person, Tasha.”

She gave him one of those small smiles and shook her head.

His chest did that thing where it tightened again. _Well, fuck._


	6. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You have reached the absolute end. It jumps to after The Avengers and probably (definitely) sets up my other fic, Oblivion. Which is porn. With feels, but its porn.  
> Thanks for reading!

Epilogue

“’You and I remember Budapest very differently’?” she recited back to him, a questioning look in her eyes as she spread medicated salve over his bruised and probably broken ribs while sitting next to him on the small bed of his bunk on the helicarrier.

They’d won; Iron Man nuked the mother ship, fell through a wormhole and then he had shwarma with the God of Thunder, a Super Soldier relic from World War II and the Hulk. Clint had never had a more surreal day. Hell, absolute nothing about the last week had felt real and he was exhausted so he just shrugged in response, “I don’t remember any aliens in Budapest, that’s for damn sure.”

The look she gave him told him that she wasn’t buying it. Natasha remembers the firefight; she remembers being outgunned. That’s what she remembers about Budapest. She remembers the thrill and excitement of taking down the bad guys, and, against all odds, living to tell the tale. She brings it up to Clint whenever they end up in a similar predicament, shouting from beside him, over the gunfire, how much it feels like Budapest, smirking with pride about their private joke. He knows it's important to her, that the mission was a turning point in her life. In response he makes some quip about how he saved her ass, or that she’d better not run off this time.

Clint always joked, until today. Today he had been too raw, the fight was too emotional to fully play their usual game, and instead he jokingly questioned her memory. He did remember the firefight, but he also remembers the heap of red and silver she’d collapsed into next to him. He remembers the panic he felt not being able to instantly check for her pulse, and how long it felt like it took for the quinjet to reach their location. 

At least in New York he could draw the parallel between saving the civilians caught in something terrible; it was the first time since Budapest they’d had to secure innocent people – children- before engaging the enemy side by side. He knew that’s what she was drawing on.

And he really didn’t remember a fucking alien army in Budapest. He might still be processing that last part.

Natasha’s hands found a particularly sore area of his ribs and the jolt of pain brought him out of his thoughts. He winced away, turning his back away from her and closed his eyes to wait for the fire that spread from his side to dissipate. She was sitting straight up beside him, studying his face when he opened his eyes, a mix of concern and something else playing out on her usually stoic features.

“’Tasha,” he began, lowering his gaze to the floor, unsure of how to proceed. “When you went down in Budapest – that’s what I remember. I remember the rest, but, Jesus, that’s what I took away from that mission. I didn’t save your ass, well I kind of saved your ass, but you scared the hell outta me. I just, it’s been a hard few days.” He raked a hand through his hair and looked back up at her, only to find her gazing into the space behind his head.

“I know how you felt. I was only a part of this to find you. Saving the world was just a bonus. I dropped everything to try to bring you back, nothing else mattered.” Her eyes snapped to meet his. “I was compromised.”

Clint’s opened and closed his mouth, trying to find the words. “Nat-”

Natasha cut him off with her lips, swallowing whatever he was trying to say with a kiss that was not soft or chaste, but demanding and needy, pouring all of her conflicted emotions into it. He hesitated before dragging his hands up her back, drawing her closer to him, holding onto her like she was the only real thing left in his world. His mouth moved against hers, capturing her bottom lip between his, deepening the kiss. Her arms found their way around his neck, carefully avoiding the discoloration that painted his bare torso. The kiss was not a battle, but a crushing wave that they were both riding out; overwhelming and crashing into each other.

Clint broke the kiss, and pulled her tighter into him, breathing in the scent of her hair and pressed a kiss to her temple.

Natasha clung to him just as desperate to ensure that he was really here and alive as he was when he had waited for her to awake in the medical wing of the helicarrier four years ago. They were still alive and they still had each other, and Natasha felt a different kind of panic build in her gut. She pulled back and pressed another kiss to his lips. “When did you last sleep?”

“Before you gave me a concussion?” His smirk fell as he paused to consider the length of time he’d been under Loki’s command, “I don’t know, New Mexico, before all of this happened.”

“You need to sleep, this isn’t over yet.” She started to stand, but he caught her arm and she turned to face him.

“Stay?” He caught her gaze and she nodded once, a small smile playing on her lips.

Natasha crossed the room to grab two sets of tee shirts from his closet, tossing one to him before removing her battle worn uniform and slipping into the other. He was already half asleep on one side of the bed when she moved to switch off the light and laid down beside him. She didn’t object when he pulled her into his embrace, she just rested her head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat – reassuring her and lulling her to sleep.

Before finally succumbing to her own exhaustion, she realized the trouble this small comfort meant for her; being comforted so strongly by another person’s heartbeat and presence went against everything she was ever taught to believe.


End file.
